The poem “Mtsyri”, written by Lermontov, belongs to the romantic direction, although the plot for it was real events told to the poet by eyewitnesses of the events. Mtsyri is spiritually close to the poet, which is why he was able to so reliably describe the feelings and experiences of the young monastic novice. Lermontov, like Mtsyri, was experiencing separation from his family. His mother died, and his grandmother took little Misha away from his father, not even allowing them to see each other. All Lermontov struggled with a serious illness, which was passed on to him by inheritance. He grew up as a withdrawn child, keeping all his thoughts and feelings to himself. Perhaps that is why he developed a poetic gift.
At the general's
Mtsyri's past before the monastery is very short. The Russian general took him away at the age of six, when the child is already aware of everything, understands, remembers. One can only guess what happened to his parents, given what and how Mtsyri says about his father. Perhaps the village was captured, and the mountaineers who opposed the Russians were either captured or killed. I don't think the child was taken from his living parents. Most likely, he was sitting somewhere and crying alone. The general took pity on the child and took him with him. Maybe he wanted to raise him himself. But the boy fell ill on the road. His illness was most likely associated with a terrible shock from what he saw. Children in this state withdraw into themselves. The boy also remained silent for a long time and stubbornly, rejecting food and not wanting to communicate with anyone. The poet attributed this state to childhood pride, but it was a shock, the consequence of which was illness.
Talking about his childhood in his native village, he says nothing about what happened and how he ended up with the general. It’s hard for him to remember that fateful day.
Life at home
Until he was six years old, he lived in the village with his parents, whom he loved. The houses of the village were scattered around a mountain gorge, in the valley of which a small river ran. Mtsyri went to play in this stream. He liked to watch the running waves sparkling in the sun, and the swallows that, before the rain, flew low over the stream and touched the water with their wings. In the morning, the mountain peasants drove out their cattle, and all together they created a common noise formed by their mooing and stomping. Most likely they were buffalos. They were guarded by a pack of strong, large dogs. But the child was not afraid of them. They did not rush at people without reason, and especially did not touch children.
In the yard where little Mtsyri lived, elders often gathered. This suggests that his father or grandfather were not the last people in the village. Perhaps they were of princely blood. There were older sisters in the family, and most likely the boy was the last child, the only son. Then one can imagine how his father loved and cherished him.
The girls played with him, sang lullabies, and talked to each other. They were carefree, and their eyes shone with this happiness. He remembered their laughter and the sound of their speeches. He does not say how many sisters Mtsyri had.
Mtsyri says nothing about the older generation of the family, but most likely his father’s father and mother, that is, his grandfather and grandmother were also present in his life. He could hear it from them 
The image of his father was preserved in his memory in combat clothing. He remembered the ringing of chain mail and weapons.
These memories, which he kept in his soul for many years while he lived in the monastery, called and beckoned him. They pushed him to escape.
The poem was completed on August 5, 1839, and a year later published in the last lifetime collection of poems.
Summary of “Mtsyri” Lermontov wrote the poem “Mtsyri” in 1839. Already in 1840 it was published in the collection “Poems of M. Lermontov”. The poet’s idea for the work “Mtsyri” appeared at the age of 17, when he was about to write the notes of a young monk. During his first exile to the Caucasus in 1837, Lermontov hears a story that forms the basis of the poem. In Mtskheta, he meets a lonely monk who told him about his life. He is a highlander who, as a child, was captured by General Ermolov and left in a monastery. Subsequently, the monk tried to escape many times, and one of the attempts led him to a long illness. This romantic story, apparently, formed the basis of the poem. To get a more complete impression of the work of Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov, we suggest you read summary "Mtsyri" by chapters. The main characters of Mtsyri are a young highlander raised in a monastery and preparing to take monastic vows. He retained the memory of his native Caucasus and is planning to escape to his homeland, but when this attempt fails, he dies of melancholy. Before his death he confesses, and in this confession there are rebellious notes, bitterness and regret about the failed escape. According to Lermontov himself, “mtsyri” in Georgian means “novice”, or, in the second meaning, “alien”, “foreigner”. Thus, the hero is deprived of his own name. Other characters General - brings a sick child to the monastery and leaves him there. The old monk cured and raised Mtsyri, and later listens to his last confession. A Georgian girl - Mtsyri meets with her during his wanderings, she becomes his brief love. And we also have: for the most impatient - A very brief summary of "Mtsyri" for the most sociable - The main characters of "Mtsyri" for the busiest - Reading diary "Mtsyri" for the most curious - Analysis of "Mtsyri" by Lermontov for the coolest - Read "Mtsyri" » in full Summary The poem is preceded by an epigraph - “Tasting, I tasted little honey, and now I’m dying,” chosen by Lermontov from the Bible. These lines symbolically emphasize the prohibition violated by Mtsyri and the desire to get more from life. Chapter 1 At the confluence of two rivers, Aragva and Kura, a monastery has stood for a long time. Now it is destroyed. There is only one old watchman left who sweeps the dust from the slabs. They preserve the memory of how the Georgian king gave his power to Russia, and now Georgia lives “beyond friendly bayonets.” Chapter 2 One day a Russian general passes by the monastery. He has a mountaineer child of about six with him, he is sick and has to be left behind. The child grows up unsociable and is sad. However, one of the holy fathers takes care of him, educates him and prepares him for tonsure. Shortly before taking his vows, Mtsyri disappears; he is found three days later and brought to the monastery. The young man dies, and the monk comes to him to confess. Chapters 3-5 “I lived little, and lived in captivity” - this is how Mtsyri begins his confession. Then he reproaches the monk: why did he save and educate him, if he had to grow up away from his loved ones, not knowing either his father or mother and languishing in constant melancholy? He is young, thirsty for love and life. The monk was also young, but he had life - and Mtsyri was deprived of it. Chapters 6-7 The young man talks about what he saw in the wild: fields, open spaces and in the distance - the Caucasus. The sight of the Caucasus reminds him of his home, his father, his sisters who sang over his cradle, the river where he played on the golden sand as a child, and his entire peaceful life. First he remembers his native village, the old men sitting on the threshold, then long daggers and other weapons. Here his own father appears before the hero’s inner gaze. He is dressed in chain mail and clutches a gun. This vision awakens in the hero a longing for what he is deprived of. Chapter 8 A long time ago, Mtsyri conceived this escape, promising himself to look at the free world at least once. And this wish came true: in three days of escape, according to him, he saw more than in his life in the monastery. His first impression is a thunderstorm, in which he feels a kindred, rebellious soul. He is “like a brother, / Would be glad to embrace the storm.” He watches the play of the elements, tries to catch lightning with his hand. At this point Mtsyri interrupts his confession and sadly asks the monk: could the monastery give him something like that? Chapters 9-13 The thunderstorm subsides, and Mtsyri runs on. He himself does not know where he is going, because among people he feels like a stranger. Nature is what is close and understandable to him, the young man understands the voice of the stream and sits with it for a long time, admiring the surroundings. The vault of heaven around him is so clear and deep that, according to the young man, one could discern the flight of an angel on it. Nature, trees, bushes, stones - all this talks to each other about the “secrets of heaven and earth,” and these speeches are understandable to Mtsyri, the child of nature. Everything he changed his mind at the stream has already disappeared without a trace, and there are no words in human speech to tell his thoughts at that time. But still Mtsyri would like to tell them again: then he would feel alive again, at least mentally. He could sit like this forever, but midday comes and he begins to be thirsty. The young man goes down to the stream. This is dangerous, but “free youth is strong, / And death seemed not scary!” Then a magical voice is heard near the stream - it is a Georgian girl singing who has gone down to fetch water. She walks easily, throwing back her veil, sometimes slipping on the stones and laughing at her own awkwardness. The young man can see her face and chest, golden in the sun, and most importantly, her eyes. Her eyes are black and their darkness is “full of the secrets of love.” Mtsyri is fascinated. He breaks off his story: the monk still won’t understand this. Chapters 14-15 Having woken up in the middle of the night, Mtsyri continues on her way, wanting to get to her native country. He walks forward, focusing on the mountains visible in the distance, but soon loses his way. There is an endless forest around. Brought up in captivity, Mtsyri had long ago lost the natural sense of direction characteristic of every mountaineer. Chapters 16-19 A “mighty leopard” appears in the forest, and Mtsyri attacks him. The young man’s heart was inflamed with a thirst for battle; he is sure that “he could have been in the land of his fathers / Not one of the last daredevils.” The fierce fight lasts for a long time - wounds are still visible on Mtsyri’s chest. However, he emerges victorious. Chapters 20-23 The young man got out of the forest and for a long time cannot understand where he came. Gradually he begins to realize with horror: he has returned to the monastery. The ringing of bells confirms the guess. So Mtsyri understands that he is no longer destined to see his native land, and blames himself for this: “The prison / Left its mark on me...”. A fit of despair gives way to death delirium. Mtsyri seems as if he is lying on the river bottom, and fish are playing around him. One of them speaks to him and persuades him to stay here, at the bottom, where there is “coldness and peace.” She will call her sisters, and together they will cheer him up with a dance. Mtsyri listens to these sweet speeches for a long time before completely forgetting himself. Then the monks find him. Chapters 24-26 Confession is over, and death is approaching. Mtsyri tells his confessor that with early years he is engulfed in flame - the desire of will, and this fire burned him. Before his death, only one thing saddens him: his body will not remain in his native land. And the story of his torment will remain unknown to people. Perhaps, Mtsyri thinks, heaven awaits him, but the thought of this is not joyful. "Alas! - in a few minutes Between the steep and dark rocks, Where I played as a child, I would trade paradise and eternity...” Before his death, he asks to be taken out into the garden so that he can see the Caucasus once again, admire the radiance of the blue sky and the beauty of the blooming acacias. A cool breeze will remind him of the gentle hand of a friend or brother wiping the death sweat from his forehead, the sound of the wind will seem like a song about a “sweet country.” The thought of his native country will calm him down and “with this thought I will fall asleep, / And I will not curse anyone!...”.” Conclusion As we can see, in the poem “Mtsyri” a number of motifs characteristic of Lermontov’s work are raised: the motif of loneliness, love for the homeland and rebellion against the usual foundations. The poet strives to create a classic romantic hero, a passionate and rebellious soul. The verse itself in “Mtsyri,” according to critics, sounds abruptly, like a falling sword. Strengthens the romantic motives and the place where the events unfold - the Caucasus, the country of freedom. Thanks to the artistic originality of the work and the relevance of the problems depicted in it, the poem “Mtsyri” is still interesting to read today. Therefore, after reading brief retelling“Mtsyri” by Lermontov, we advise you to get acquainted with the full text of the poem.
Tasting, I tasted little honey and now I’m dying.
1st Book of Kings.
A few years ago,
Where they merge and make noise
Hugging like two sisters,
The streams of Aragva and Kura,
There was a monastery. From behind the mountain
And now the pedestrian sees
Collapsed gate posts
And the towers, and the church vault;
But there’s no smoking under it
Censer fragrant smoke,
Can't hear the singing at late hour
Monks praying for us.
Now there is one gray-haired old man,
The guard of the ruins is half dead,
Forgotten by people and death,
Sweeps away dust from gravestones,
Which the inscription says
About the glory of the past - and about
How depressed I am by my crown,
Such and such a king, in such and such a year,
He handed over his people to Russia.
And God's grace came down
To Georgia! - she was blooming
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies,
Beyond friendly bayonets.
Once upon a time a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill and could not bear it
Labor has a long way to go.
He seemed to be about six years old;
Like a chamois of the mountains, timid and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But there is a painful illness in him
Then developed a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
I was languishing - even a weak groan
Didn't come out of children's lips,
He signly rejected food,
And he died quietly, proudly.
Out of pity one monk
He looked after the sick man, and within the walls
He remained protective
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran away from everyone,
Wandered silently, alone,
I looked, sighing, to the east,
We are tormented by vague melancholy
On my own side.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized by the holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the prime of life
Take a monastic vow
Suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all the searches on it
It was in vain, but then
They found him unconscious in the steppe
And again they brought it to the monastery;
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, as if long labor,
I experienced illness or hunger.
He did not answer the interrogation
And every day he became noticeably sluggish;
And his end was near.
Then the monk came to him
With exhortation and supplication;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
He stood up, gathering the rest of his strength,
And for a long time he said this:
"You listen to my confession
I came here, thank you.
Everything is better in front of someone
With words, ease my chest;
But I didn’t do harm to people,
And therefore my affairs
It won't do you much good to know;
Can you tell your soul?
I lived little and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one,
But only full of anxiety,
I would trade it if I could.
I knew only the power of thoughts,
One - but fiery passion:
She lived inside me like a worm,
She tore her soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From stuffy cells and prayers
In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds,
Where people are as free as eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
Nourished with tears and melancholy;
Her before heaven and earth
I now loudly admit
And I don’t ask for forgiveness.
"Old man! I've heard many times
That you saved me from death -
For what? ... gloomy and lonely,
A leaf torn off by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
A child at heart, a monk by destiny.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words are “father” and “mother”.
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I get out of the habit of being in the monastery
From these sweet names.
In vain: their sound was born
With me. I've seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
But I didn’t find it at home
Not only sweet souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my soul I swore an oath:
Although for a moment someday
My burning chest
Press me with longing breast another,
Although unfamiliar, but dear.
Alas, now those dreams are
Died in complete beauty,
And I, as I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.
“The grave does not frighten me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold, eternal silence;
But I’m sorry to part with life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
A wild dream of youth?
Either I didn’t know or I forgot
How I hated and loved;
How my heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall,
Child of an unknown country,
Snuggled up, a young dove
Sitting, scared of a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
I hate you: you are weak, you are gray,
And you have lost the habit of desires.
What kind of need? You lived, old man!
There is something in the world for you to forget,
You lived - I could also live!
"You want to know what I saw
Free? – Lush fields,
Hills covered with a crown
Trees growing all around
Noisy with a fresh crowd,
Like brothers dancing in a circle.
I saw piles of dark rocks
When the stream separated them,
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone embraces,
And they yearn for a meeting every moment;
But the days go by, the years go by -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Bizarre as dreams
When at the hour of dawn
They smoked like altars,
Their heights in the blue sky,
And cloud after cloud,
Leaving his secret overnight stay,
Running towards the east -
It's like a white caravan
Migratory birds from distant countries!
In the distance I saw through the fog,
In the snow that burns like a diamond,
The gray, unshakable Caucasus;
And it was in my heart
Easy, I don't know why.
That I once lived there too,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer.
“And I remembered my father’s house,
The gorge is ours, and all around
A scattered village in the shade;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered dark old men
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against my father's porch
Sitting with dignity on their faces;
And the shine of the framed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
All this in a vague series
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? he's alive
In your combat clothes
He appeared to me and I remembered
The ringing of chain mail and the shine of guns,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Over my cradle...
A stream ran into the gorges there,
It was noisy, but not deep;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And I watched the swallows with my eyes,
When they, before the rain,
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening fire
There are long stories about
How did the people of the old days live?
When the world was even more magnificent.
"You want to know what I did
Free? Lived - and my life
Without these three blissful days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
A long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We are born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, terrible hour,
When the thunderstorm scared you,
When, crowded at the altar,
You were lying prostrate on the ground,
I ran away. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be glad to embrace the storm!
I watched with the eyes of a cloud,
I caught lightning with my hand...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm?..
“I ran for a long time - where, where,
Don't know! not a single star
Didn't illuminate the difficult path.
I had fun inhaling
In my weary chest
The night freshness of those forests,
And that's all. I have a lot of hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
He lay down between the tall grasses;
I listened: there was no chase.
The storm has subsided. Pale light
Stretched out in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the jagged teeth of distant mountains;
I lay motionless and silent.
Sometimes there is a jackal in the gorge
Screamed and cried like a child
And shining with smooth scales,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not squeeze my soul:
I myself, like an animal, was alien to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.
"Down deep below me
The flow, strengthened by the thunderstorm,
It was noisy, and its noise was dull
Got it. Although without words,
I understood that conversation
Incessant murmur, eternal argument
With a stubborn pile of stones.
Then suddenly it calmed down, then it became stronger
It sounded in silence;
And so, in the foggy heights
The birds began to sing, and the east
Got rich; breeze
The damp sheets moved;
The sleepy flowers have died,
And, like them, towards the day,
I raised my head...
I looked around; I'm not hiding:
I felt scared; on the edge
I lay in the threatening abyss,
Where the angry shaft howled and whirled;
Steps of rocks led there;
But only an evil spirit walked over them,
When, cast down from heaven,
He disappeared into an underground abyss.
“God’s garden was blooming all around me;
Plants rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And the curls of the vines
Weaving, showing off between the trees
Transparent green leaves;
And there are grapes full of them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A timid swarm of birds flew towards them.
And again I fell to the ground,
And I began to listen again
They whispered in the bushes,
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
They merged here; didn't sound
In the solemn hour of praise
Only a man's proud voice.
Everything I felt then
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them,
To live, at least mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I am in it with my eyes and soul
Drowning while the midday heat
Didn't disperse my dreams
And I began to languish with thirst.
"Then to the stream from above,
Holding onto flexible bushes,
From stove to stove I did my best
He began to descend. From under your feet
Having broken off, the stone sometimes
Rolled down - behind him the reins
It was smoking, the dust was in a column;
Humming and jumping then
He was swallowed up by the wave;
And I hung above the depths,
But free youth is strong,
And death seemed not scary!
Only I'm from steep heights
Descended, the freshness of mountain waters
She blew towards me,
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trepidation,
I looked up fearfully
And he began to listen eagerly.
And closer, closer everything sounded
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was accustomed to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But it stuck in my mind,
And for me, only darkness comes,
The invisible spirit sings it.
"Holding the jug above your head,
Georgian woman on a narrow path
I went to the shore. Sometimes
She slid between the stones
Laughing at your awkwardness.
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily, back
Curves of long veils
Throwing it back. Summer heat
Covered with golden shadow
Her face and chest; and heat
I breathed from her lips and cheeks.
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep,
So full of the secrets of love,
What are my ardent thoughts
Confused. Only I remember
The jug rings when the stream
Slowly poured into him,
And a rustle... nothing more.
When did I wake up again
And the blood drained from the heart,
She was already far away;
And she walked at least more quietly, but easily,
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!
Not far away, in the cool darkness,
It seemed rooted to the rock
Two saklas as a friendly couple;
Above a flat roof
The smoke flowed blue.
It's as if I see now
How the door quietly opened...
And it closed again!..
I know you won't understand
My longing, my sadness;
And if I could, I would be sorry:
Memories of those minutes
In me, with me, let them die.
“I am exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian woman image is young.
And strange, sweet melancholy
My chest began to ache again.
I struggled to breathe for a long time -
And I woke up. Already the moon
Above she shone, and alone
Only a cloud was sneaking behind her
Like for your prey,
Greedy arms opened.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Tops of the snow chain
In the distance they sparkled before me,
Yes, a stream splashed into the banks.
There is a light in the familiar hut
It fluttered, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So the bright star goes out!
I wanted... but I'm going there
I didn’t dare to go up. I have one goal
Go to your native country,
Had it in my soul - and overcame
Suffering from hunger as best I could.
And here's the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost sight of the mountains
And then I began to lose my way.
“In vain to be furious, at times,
I tore with a desperate hand
Thorn tangled with ivy:
It was all forest, eternal forest all around,
Scarier and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush...
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
It was still the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground;
And he sobbed in a frenzy,
And gnawed the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
Into her with flammable dew...
But believe me, human help
I didn't want... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a steppe beast;
And if only for a minute cry
He cheated on me - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.
“Do you remember your childhood years:
I have never known tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Only a dark forest
Yes, a month floating among the heavens!
Illuminated by its ray,
Covered with moss and sand,
An impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a clearing. Suddenly on her
A shadow flashed and two lights
Sparks flew... and then
Some beast in one leap
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
Playing backwards in the sand.
It was the desert's eternal guest -
Mighty leopard. Raw bone
He gnawed and squealed joyfully;
Then he fixed his bloody gaze,
Wagging its tail affectionately,
For a full month - and on it
The wool shone silver.
I was waiting, grabbing a horned branch,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited with a thirst for fight
And blood... yes, the hand of fate
I was led in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could happen in the land of our fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.
“I waited. And here in the shadows of the night
He sensed the enemy, and the howl
Lingering, plaintive, like a groan,
Suddenly there was a sound... and he began
Angrily digging the sand with your paw,
He reared up, then lay down,
And the first mad leap
I was threatened with a terrible death...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and quick.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead cut...
He groaned like a man
And he capsized. But again,
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, a mortal battle!
“He threw himself on my chest;
But I managed to stick it in my throat
And turn there twice
My weapon... He howled,
He rushed with all his strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tighter than two friends,
They fell at once, and in the darkness
The battle continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment;
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I was on fire and screaming like him;
As if I myself was born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
It's like my tongue has been around since childhood
I’m not used to a different sound...
But my enemy began to grow weak,
Toss around, breathe slower,
Squeezed me in last time…
The pupils of his motionless eyes
They flashed menacingly - and then
Quietly closed in eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He faced death face to face
How a fighter should behave in battle!..
"You see on my chest
Deep claw marks;
They haven't overgrown yet
And they didn’t close; but the earth
The damp cover will refresh them,
And death will heal forever.
I forgot about them then
And, once again gathering the rest of my strength,
I wandered into the depths of the forest...
But I argued in vain with fate:
She laughed at me!
“I came out of the forest. And so
The day woke up and there was a round dance
The guiding light has disappeared
In its rays. Misty Forest
He spoke. Aul in the distance
Started smoking. Vague hum
Ran through the valley with the wind...
I sat down and began to listen;
But it fell silent along with the breeze.
And I glanced around:
That region seemed familiar to me.
And I was scared to understand
I couldn’t for a long time, that again
I returned to my prison;
That so many days are useless
I caressed a secret plan,
He endured, languished and suffered,
And why all this?.. So that in the prime of life,
As soon as I looked at the light of God,
With the sonorous murmur of the oak forests,
Having experienced the bliss of freedom,
Take it to the grave with you
Longing for the holy homeland,
A reproach to the hopes of the deceived
And shame on your pity!..
Still immersed in doubt,
I thought it was a bad dream...
Suddenly a distant bell rings
It rang out again in the silence
And then everything became clear to me...
ABOUT! I recognized him immediately!
He has seen children's eyes more than once
Driven away the visions of living dreams
About dear neighbors and relatives,
About the wild will of the steppes,
About light, mad horses,
About wonderful battles between the rocks,
Where I alone defeated everyone!..
And I listened without tears, without strength.
It seemed that the ringing was coming out
From the heart - as if someone
The iron struck me in the chest.
And then I vaguely realized
What traces do I have to my homeland?
Will never pave it.
“Yes, I deserve my lot!
A mighty horse is alien in the steppe,
Having thrown off the bad rider,
To my homeland from afar
Will find a direct and short way...
What am I in front of him? Breasts in vain
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
A dream game, a disease of the mind.
I have my prison stamp on me
Left... Such is the flower
Temnichny: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp slabs,
And for a long time the young leaves
I didn’t bloom, I was still waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Passed and a kind hand
The flower was touched with sadness,
And he was carried into the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
The sweetness of life was breathing...
But what? The dawn has barely risen,
The scorching ray burned her
A flower raised in prison...
"And what's his name, he scorched me
The fire of a merciless day.
In vain I hid in the grass
My tired head;
A withered leaf is her crown
Thorn over my brow
Curled up and in the face with fire
The earth itself breathed to me.
Flashing quickly in the heights,
Sparks swirled; from the white cliffs
Steam was flowing. God's world was sleeping
In a deaf daze
Despair is a heavy sleep.
At least the corncrake screamed,
Or a dragonfly's living trill
I heard a stream or
Baby talk... Only a snake,
rustling dry weeds,
Shining with a yellow back,
It's like a golden inscription
The blade is covered to the bottom,
Traversing the crumbly sand,
She glided carefully; Then,
Playing, basking on it,
Curled in a triple ring;
It's like suddenly being burned,
She rushed and jumped
And she was hiding in the distant bushes...
“And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through couples
Two mountains loomed black in the distance,
Our monastery because of one
The jagged wall sparkled.
Below are Aragva and Kura,
Wrapped in silver
The soles of the fresh islands,
By the roots of whispering bushes
They ran together and easily...
I was far from them!
I wanted to stand up - in front of me
Everything was spinning quickly;
I wanted to scream - my tongue was dry
He was silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Death delirium.
It seemed to me
That I'm lying on a damp bottom
Deep river - and there was
There is a mysterious darkness all around.
And I thirst for eternal singing,
Like an ice cold stream
The murmur flowed into my chest...
And I was only afraid to fall asleep,
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the heights
Wave pressed against wave,
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where did I play as a child?
I would trade heaven and eternity...
"When I start to die,
And, believe me, you won’t have to wait long -
You told me to move
To our garden, to the place where they bloomed
Two white acacia bushes...
The grass between them is so thick,
AND fresh air so fragrant
And so transparently golden
A leaf playing in the sun!
They told me to put it there.
The glow of a blue day
I'll get drunk for the last time.
The Caucasus is visible from there!
Perhaps he is from his heights
He will send me farewell greetings,
Will send with a cool breeze...
And near me before the end
The sound will be heard again, dear!
And I will begin to think that my friend
Or brother, bending over me,
Wipe with an attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death,
He tells me about a sweet country...
And with this thought I will fall asleep,
And I won’t curse anyone!”
Notes
Published from “Poems by M. Lermontov”, St. Petersburg, 1840, pp. 121–159, where the poem was published for the first time. Poems (censorship omissions) are restored from the manuscript, part of which is an authorized copy, part of which is an autograph (title page, epigraph and some verses) - IRLI, op. 1, No. 13 (notebook XIII), pp. 1-14 rev.
On the cover of notebook XIII there is Lermontov’s note: “1839 August 5.” This marking is the basis for dating the poem. The date “1840” indicated in the 1840 edition of “Poems” is not exact. The differences between the text of the “Poems” of 1840 and the manuscript are insignificant: the title of the poem has been changed (the poem was originally entitled “Bary”) and several author’s amendments have been made.
The poem "Mtsyri" is connected with the earlier "Confession" (1829–1830) and "Boyar Orsha" (1835–1836). A number of poems were transferred from “Confession” to “Boyar Orsha”. On the other hand, many verses of “Boyar Orsha” were subsequently included in the text of “Mtsyri”. The verses of “Confession” and “Boyar Orsha” almost coincide; “Boyar of Orsha” and “Mtsyri”.
There is a story by P. A. Viskovatov about the origin of the idea for the poem, based on the testimony of A. P. Shan-Girey and A. A. Khastatov. The poet, wandering in 1837 along the old Georgian Military Road, “came across in Mtskheta... a lonely monk or, rather, an old monastery servant “Beri” in Georgian. The watchman was the last of the brethren of the abolished nearby monastery. Lermontov got into a conversation with him and learned from him that he was originally a highlander, captured as a child by General Ermolov during the expedition. The general took him with him and left the sick boy of the monastery brethren. This is where he grew up; For a long time I could not get used to the monastery, I was sad and tried to escape to the mountains. The consequence of one such attempt was a long illness that brought him to the brink of the grave. Having been cured, the savage calmed down and remained in the monastery, where he became especially attached to the old monk. The curious and lively story “Bary” made an impression on Lermontov... and so he decided to use what was suitable in “Confession” and “Boyar Orsha”, and transferred the entire action from Spain and then the Lithuanian border to Georgia. Now in the hero of the poem he could reflect the prowess of the unyielding free sons of the Caucasus, which he liked, and in the poem itself depict the beauty of Caucasian nature” (“Russian Starina”, 1887, No. 10, pp. 124–125).
In the literature about Lermontov, some inaccuracies were pointed out in Viskovatov’s given story (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov. Publishing house “Soviet Writer”, M., 1951, pp. 150–154).
“Mtsyri” consists of 26 small chapters and is almost entirely a monologue of the hero.
At the beginning of the poem, Lermontov described the ancient Mtskheta Cathedral and the graves of the last Georgian kings Irakli II and George XII, under whom Georgia annexed to Russia in 1801.
The central episode of “Mtsyri” - the battle of the hero with the leopard - is based on the motives of Georgian folk poetry, in particular the Khevsur song about a tiger and a youth, the theme of which is reflected in the poem “The Knight in the Skin of a Tiger” by Shota Rustaveli (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov . Publishing house "Soviet Writer", M., 1951, pp. 144–150). There are 14 known versions of the ancient Georgian song “Young Man and the Tiger”, published by A. G. Shanidze (see: L. P. Semenov. Lermontov and the folklore of the Caucasus. Pyatigorsk, 1941, pp. 60–62).
The revolutionary democrats were close to the rebellious pathos of the poem “Mtsyri”. “What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, he breathes his own spirit, amazes him with his own power,” wrote V. G. Belinsky (Belinsky, vol. 6, p. 54).
According to N. P. Ogarev, Lermontov’s Mtsyri is “his clearest, or only ideal” (N. Ogarev. Preface to the collection “Russian Secret Literature of the 19th Century,” Part I, London, 1861, p. LXVI) .
A few years ago,
Where, merging, they make noise,
Hugging like two sisters,
The streams of Aragva and Kura,
There was a monastery. From behind the mountain
And now the pedestrian sees
Collapsed gate posts
And the towers, and the church vault;
But there’s no smoking under it
Censer fragrant smoke,
Can't hear the singing at late hour
Monks praying for us.
Now there is one gray-haired old man,
The guard of the ruins is half dead,
Forgotten by people and death,
Sweeps away dust from gravestones,
Which the inscription says
About the glory of the past - and about
How, depressed by my crown,
Such and such a king, in such and such a year,
He handed over his people to Russia.
And God's grace came down
To Georgia! She was blooming
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies,
3a borderline of friendly bayonets.
Once upon a time a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill and could not bear it
The labors of a long journey;
He seemed to be about six years old
Like a chamois of the mountains, timid and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But there is a painful illness in him
Then developed a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
I was languishing, even a weak moan
Didn't come out of children's lips,
He signly rejected food
And he died quietly, proudly.
Out of pity one monk
He looked after the sick man, and within the walls
He remained protective
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran away from everyone,
Wandered silently, alone,
I looked, sighing, to the east,
Driven by vague melancholy
On my own side.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized by the holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the prime of life
Take a monastic vow
Suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all the searches on it
It was in vain, but then
They found him unconscious in the steppe
And again they brought him to the monastery.
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, as if long labor,
I experienced illness or hunger.
He did not answer the interrogation
And every day he became noticeably sluggish.
And his end was near;
Then the monk came to him
With exhortation and supplication;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
He stood up, gathering the rest of his strength,
And for a long time he said this:
"You listen to my confession
I came here, thank you.
Everything is better in front of someone
With words, ease my chest;
But I didn’t do harm to people,
And therefore my affairs
It's a little good for you to know
Can you tell your soul?
I lived little and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one,
But only full of anxiety,
I would trade it if I could.
I knew only the power of thoughts,
One but fiery passion:
She lived inside me like a worm,
She tore her soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From stuffy cells and prayers
In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds,
Where people are as free as eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
Nourished with tears and melancholy;
Her before heaven and earth
I now loudly admit
And I don’t ask for forgiveness.
Old man! I've heard many times
That you saved me from death -
For what? .. Gloomy and lonely,
A leaf torn off by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
A child at heart, a monk by destiny.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words "father" and "mother".
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I get out of the habit of being in the monastery
From these sweet names, -
In vain: their sound was born
With me. And I saw it in others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
But I didn’t find it at home
Not only sweet souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my soul I swore an oath:
Although for a moment someday
My burning chest
Hold the other one to your chest with longing,
Although unfamiliar, but dear.
Alas! now those dreams
Died in complete beauty,
And how I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.
The grave doesn't scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In the cold eternal silence;
But I’m sorry to part with life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
A wild dream of youth?
Either I didn’t know or I forgot
How I hated and loved;
How my heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall,
Child of an unknown country,
Snuggled up, a young dove
Sitting, scared of a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
You are disgusted; you are weak, you are gray,
And you have lost the habit of desires.
What kind of need? You lived, old man!
There is something in the world for you to forget,
You lived - I could also live!
Do you want to know what I saw
Free? - Lush fields,
Hills covered with a crown
Trees growing all around
Noisy with a fresh crowd,
Like brothers dancing in a circle.
I saw piles of dark rocks
When the stream separated them.
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone embraces,
And they yearn for a meeting every moment;
But the days go by, the years go by -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Bizarre as dreams
When at the hour of dawn
They smoked like altars,
Their heights in the blue sky,
And cloud after cloud,
Leaving his secret overnight stay,
Running towards the east -
It's like a white caravan
Migratory birds from distant countries!
In the distance I saw through the fog
In the snow, burning like a diamond,
The gray, unshakable Caucasus;
And it was in my heart
Easy, I don't know why.
A secret voice told me
That I once lived there too,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer...
And I remembered my father's house,
The gorge is ours and all around
A scattered village in the shade;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered dark old men
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against my father's porch
Sitting with dignity on their faces;
And the shine of the framed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
All this in a vague series
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? he's alive
In your combat clothes
He appeared to me and I remembered
The ringing of chain mail and the shine of guns,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Over my cradle...
There was a stream running into the gorge there.
It was noisy, but shallow;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And I watched the swallows with my eyes,
When they're before the rain
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening fire
There are long stories about
How did the people of the old days live?
When the world was even more magnificent.
You want to know what I did
Free? Lived - and my life
Without these three blissful days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
A long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We are born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, terrible hour,
When the thunderstorm scared you,
When, crowded at the altar,
You were lying prostrate on the ground,
I ran away. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be glad to embrace the storm!
I watched with the eyes of a cloud,
I caught lightning with my hand...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm?..
I ran for a long time - where, where?
Don't know! not a single star
Didn't illuminate the difficult path.
I had fun inhaling
In my weary chest
The night freshness of those forests,
And that's all! I have a lot of hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
He lay down between the tall grasses;
I listened: there was no chase.
The storm has subsided. Pale light
Stretched out in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the jagged teeth of distant mountains;
Motionless, silent I lay,
Sometimes there is a jackal in the gorge
Screamed and cried like a child
And, shining with smooth scales,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not squeeze my soul:
I myself, like an animal, was alien to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.
Down deep below me
Flow intensified by thunderstorm
It was noisy, and its noise was dull
Hundreds of angry voices
Got it. Although without words
I understood that conversation
Incessant murmur, eternal argument
With a stubborn pile of stones.
Then suddenly it calmed down, then it became stronger
It sounded in silence;
And so, in the foggy heights
The birds began to sing, and the east
Got rich; breeze
The damp sheets moved;
The sleepy flowers have died,
And, like them, towards the day
I raised my head...
I looked around; I'm not hiding:
I felt scared; on the edge
I lay in the threatening abyss,
Where the angry shaft howled and whirled;
Steps of rocks led there;
But only an evil spirit walked over them,
When, cast down from heaven,
He disappeared into an underground abyss.
God's garden was blooming all around me;
Plants rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And the curls of the vines
Weaving, showing off between the trees
Transparent green leaves;
And there are grapes full of them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A timid swarm of birds flew towards them
And again I fell to the ground
And I began to listen again
To magical, strange voices;
They whispered in the bushes,
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
And all nature's voices
They merged here; didn't sound
In the solemn hour of praise
Only a man's proud voice.
It's in vain that I felt then,
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them,
To live, at least mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I am in it with my eyes and soul
Drowning while the midday heat
My dreams were not dispersed.
And I began to languish with thirst.
Then to the stream from above,
Holding onto flexible bushes,
From stove to stove I did my best
He began to descend. From under your feet
Having broken off, the stone sometimes
Rolled down - behind him the reins
It was smoking, the dust was in a column;
Humming and jumping then
He was swallowed up by the wave;
And I hung above the depths,
But free youth is strong,
And death seemed not scary!
Only I'm from steep heights
Descended, the freshness of mountain waters
She blew towards me,
And greedily I fell to the wave.
Suddenly - a voice - a light noise of footsteps...
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trepidation,
I looked up fearfully
And he began to listen eagerly:
And closer, closer everything sounded
Georgian woman's voice is young,
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was accustomed to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But it stuck in my mind,
And for me, only darkness comes,
The invisible spirit sings it.
Holding the jug above your head,
Georgian woman on a narrow path
I went to the shore. Sometimes
She slid between the stones
Laughing at your awkwardness.
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily, back
Curves of long veils
Throwing it back. Summer heat
Covered with golden shadow
Her face and chest; and heat
I breathed from her lips and cheeks.
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep,
So full of the secrets of love,
What are my ardent thoughts
Confused. Only I remember
The jug rings when the stream
Slowly poured into him,
And a rustle... nothing more.
When did I wake up again
And the blood drained from the heart,
She was already far away;
And she walked, at least more quietly, but easily,
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!
Not far away, in the cool darkness,
It seemed like we were rooted to the rock
Two saklas as a friendly couple;
Above a flat roof
The smoke flowed blue.
It's as if I see now
How the door quietly opened...
And it closed again! ..
I know you won't understand
My longing, my sadness;
And if I could, I would be sorry:
Memories of those minutes
In me, with me, let them die.
Exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian woman image is young.
And strange sweet melancholy
My chest began to ache again.
I struggled to breathe for a long time -
And I woke up. Already the moon
Above she shone, and alone
Only a cloud was sneaking behind her,
Like for your prey,
Greedy arms opened.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Tops of the snow chain
In the distance they sparkled before me
Yes, a stream splashed into the banks.
There is a light in the familiar hut
It fluttered, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So the bright star goes out!
I wanted... but I'm going there
I didn’t dare to go up. I have one goal -
Go to your home country -
Had it in my soul and overcame it
Suffering from hunger as best I could.
And here's the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost sight of the mountains
And then I began to lose my way.
In vain to be furious at times
I tore with a desperate hand
Thorn tangled with ivy:
There was all the forest, the eternal forest all around,
Scarier and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush.
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
There was still the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground;
And he sobbed in a frenzy,
And gnawed the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
Into her with flammable dew...
But, believe me, human help
I didn't want... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a steppe beast;
And if only for a minute cry
He cheated on me - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.
Do you remember your childhood years:
I have never known tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Only a dark forest
Yes, a month floating among the heavens!
Illuminated by its ray,
Covered with moss and sand,
An impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a clearing. Suddenly in her
A shadow flashed and two lights
Sparks flew... and then
Some beast in one leap
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
While playing, lie down on the sand.
It was the desert's eternal guest -
Mighty leopard. Raw bone
He gnawed and squealed joyfully;
Then he fixed his bloody gaze,
Wagging its tail affectionately,
For a full month, and on it
The wool shone silver.
I was waiting, grabbing a horned branch,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited with a thirst for fight
And blood... yes, the hand of fate
I was led in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could happen in the land of our fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.
I waited. And here in the shadows of the night
He sensed the enemy, and the howl
Lingering, plaintive like a groan
Suddenly there was a sound... and he began
Angrily digging the sand with your paw,
He reared up, then lay down,
And the first mad leap
I was threatened with a terrible death...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and quick.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead cut...
He groaned like a man
And he capsized. But again,
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, a mortal battle!
He threw himself on my chest:
But I managed to stick it in my throat
And turn there twice
My weapon... He howled,
He rushed with all his strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tighter than two friends,
They fell at once, and in the darkness
The battle continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment;
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I was on fire and screaming like him;
As if I myself was born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
It's like my tongue has been around since childhood
I’m not used to a different sound...
But my enemy began to grow weak,
Toss around, breathe slower,
Squeezed me for the last time...
The pupils of his motionless eyes
They flashed menacingly - and then
Quietly closed in eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He faced death face to face
How a fighter should behave in battle!..
You see on my chest
Deep claw marks;
They haven't overgrown yet
And they didn’t close; but the earth
The damp cover will refresh them
And death will heal forever.
I forgot about them then
And, once again gathering the rest of my strength,
I wandered into the depths of the forest...
But I argued in vain with fate:
She laughed at me!
I left the forest. And so
The day woke up and there was a round dance
The guiding light has disappeared
In its rays. Misty Forest
He spoke. Aul in the distance
Started smoking. Vague hum
Ran through the valley with the wind...
I sat down and began to listen;
But it fell silent along with the breeze.
And I glanced around:
That region seemed familiar to me.
And I was scared to understand
I couldn’t for a long time, that again
I returned to my prison;
That so many days are useless
I caressed a secret plan,
He endured, languished and suffered,
And why all this?.. So that in the prime of life,
As soon as I looked at the light of God,
With the sonorous murmur of the oak forests
Having experienced the bliss of freedom,
Take it to the grave with you
Longing for the holy homeland,
A reproach to the hopes of the deceived
And shame on your pity!..
Still immersed in doubt,
I thought it was a bad dream...
Suddenly a distant bell rings
It rang out again in the silence -
And then everything became clear to me...
Oh, I recognized him immediately!
He has seen children's eyes more than once
Driven away the visions of living dreams
About dear neighbors and relatives,
About the wild will of the steppes,
About light, mad horses,
About wonderful battles between the rocks,
Where I alone defeated everyone!..
And I listened without tears, without strength.
It seemed that the ringing was coming out
From the heart - as if someone
The iron struck me in the chest.
And then I vaguely realized
What traces do I have to my homeland?
Will never pave it.
Yes, I deserve my lot!
A mighty horse, a stranger in the steppe,
Having thrown off the bad rider,
To my homeland from afar
Will find a direct and short way...
What am I in front of him? Breasts in vain
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
A dream game, a disease of the mind.
I have my prison stamp on me
Left... Such is the flower
Temnichny: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp slabs,
And for a long time the young leaves
I didn’t open it, I was still waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Passed and a kind hand
The flower moved sadly,
And he was carried into the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
The sweetness of life was breathing...
But what? The dawn has barely risen,
The scorching ray burned her
A flower raised in prison...
And what's his name, he scorched me
The fire of a merciless day.
In vain I hid in the grass
My tired chapter:
A withered leaf is her crown
Thorn over my brow
Curled up and in the face with fire
The earth itself breathed to me.
Flashing quickly in the heights,
Sparks swirled from the white rocks
Steam was flowing. God's world was sleeping
In a deaf daze
Despair is a heavy sleep.
At least the corncrake screamed,
Or a dragonfly's living trill
I heard a stream or
Baby talk... Only a snake,
rustling dry weeds,
Shining with a yellow back,
It's like a golden inscription
The blade is covered to the bottom,
Stranding the crumbly sand.
She slid carefully, then,
Playing, basking on it,
Curled in a triple ring;
It's like suddenly being burned,
She rushed and jumped
And she was hiding in the distant bushes...
And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through couples
Two mountains loomed black in the distance.
Our monastery because of one
The jagged wall sparkled.
Below are Aragva and Kura,
Wrapped in silver
The soles of the fresh islands,
By the roots of whispering bushes
They ran together and easily...
I was far from them!
I wanted to stand up - in front of me
Everything was spinning quickly;
I wanted to scream - my tongue was dry
He was silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Death delirium. It seemed to me
That I'm lying on a damp bottom
Deep river - and there was
There is a mysterious darkness all around.
And I thirst for eternal singing,
Like a cold stream of ice,
Murmuring, it flowed into my chest...
And I was only afraid to fall asleep, -
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the heights
Wave pressed against wave.
And the sun through the crystal waves
It shone sweeter than the moon...
And colorful herds of fish
Sometimes they played in the rays.
And I remember one of them:
She is friendlier than others
She caressed me. Scales
Was covered in gold
Her back. She curled
Over my head more than once,
And the look of her green eyes
He was sadly tender and deep...
And I couldn’t be surprised:
Her silver voice
He whispered strange words to me,
And he sang, and fell silent again.
He said: “My child,
Stay here with me:
Living freely in the water
And cold and peace.
I will call my sisters:
We're dancing in a circle
Let's cheer up the foggy eyes
And your spirit is tired.
Go to sleep, your bed is soft,
Your cover is transparent.
Years will pass, centuries will pass
Under the talk of wonderful dreams.
Oh my dear! I won't hide it
That I love you
I love it like a free stream,
I love you like my life..."
And for a long, long time I listened;
And it seemed like a sonorous stream
She poured out her quiet murmur
With the words of a golden fish.
Here I forgot. God's light
It faded in the eyes. Crazy nonsense
I gave in to the powerlessness of my body...
So I was found and raised...
You know the rest yourself.
I'm done. Believe my words
Or don't believe me, I don't care.
There is only one thing that saddens me:
My corpse is cold and dumb
It will not smolder in its native land,
And the story of my bitter torments
Will not call the deaf between the walls
Nobody's sad attention
In my dark name.
Farewell, father... give me your hand:
Do you feel mine is on fire...
Know this flame from your youth,
Melting away, he lived in my chest;
But now there is no food for him,
And he burned down his prison
And will return again to that
Who to all the lawful succession
Gives suffering and peace...
But what does that matter to me? - let him be in heaven,
In the holy, transcendental land
My spirit will find a home...
Alas! - in a few minutes
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where did I play as a child?
I would trade heaven and eternity...
When I start to die,
And believe me, you won't have to wait long,
You told me to move
To our garden, to the place where they bloomed
Two white acacia bushes...
The grass between them is so thick,
And the fresh air is so fragrant,
And so transparently golden
A leaf playing in the sun!
They told me to put it there.
The glow of a blue day
I'll get drunk for the last time.
The Caucasus is visible from there!
Perhaps he is from his heights
He will send me farewell greetings,
Will send with a cool breeze...
And near me before the end
The sound will be heard again, dear!
And I will begin to think that my friend
Or brother, bending over me,
Wipe with an attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death
And what he sings in a low voice
He tells me about a sweet country..
And with this thought I will fall asleep,
And I won’t curse anyone!..."
A young man who has been locked in a monastery since childhood against his own will. He dies shortly after he manages to escape.
History of creation
Mikhail Lermontov worked on the poem “Mtsyri” in 1838-1839. The first publication took place in 1840 in the collection “Poems of M. Lermontov” with some censorship abbreviations. The poem is considered one of the last examples of the romantic genre in Russian literature. Lermontov allegedly borrowed the plot of the poem from a story he heard during his exile in the Caucasus, where the poet was sent in 1837.
The poet traveled along the old Georgian Military Road, which runs through the Main Caucasus Range. There, in the city of Mtskheta, Lermontov got into a conversation with a certain monk, who told the poet the story of his own life. This monk came from a family of mountaineers and was captured as a child. General Alexei Ermolov took the child with him, but the boy fell ill on the way, and the general had to leave him in the monastery in the care of the brethren.
The child grew up in a monastery, but could not get used to the new conditions and several times tried to escape back to the mountains. After another attempt, the child became seriously ill and almost died. This story supposedly impressed Lermontov so much that he created a poem based on the story he heard. It is now difficult to say whether this episode in Lermontov’s life really took place, or whether it was invented by early biographers.
The poem also shows a great influence of Georgian folklore. For example, the motif of a battle between a young man and a leopard or tiger is common in Georgian folk poetry. The title of the poem originally sounded like “Beri”, which translated from Georgian meant “monk”. Later, the author replaced the name with “Mtsyri” - a word that meant both “novice” and “foreigner”, which more accurately reflected the essence of what was happening in the poem. When editing the poem later, Lermontov threw out part of the text, probably fearing censorship. In these lines, Mtsyri complains that instead of a homeland, God gave him a prison.
Poem "Mtsyri"
The hero was born and grew up in the Caucasus in the family of a proud mountaineer. In the memories, the hero sees his father in the form of a warrior, in combat clothing and with a gun. As a six-year-old boy, the hero was captured by a certain Russian general and taken away from his native land. On the way, the child fell ill, and the general had to leave the boy in the monastery. There the child was held by force, and Mtsyri had to become a monk against his will.
The hero retained the qualities inherent in the highlanders - a passionate and ardent nature, a proud character and a “mighty spirit” that the young man inherited from his ancestors. As a child, the hero refused monastery food out of pride and agreed to die of hunger. Even as a child, the hero was strong in spirit, never complained, never cried, and silently endured illness and difficulties.
Before his death, confessing, the hero says that his life was full of “bitter torments.” The hero remembers the past - his father’s house and the gorge where the aul in which the Mtsyri family lived stood. When the hero ended up in the monastery, one old monk began to take care of the sick boy out of pity. Having recovered, the hero, however, did not cheer up, but hid from people, did not play and was shy.
The old monk, who saved the boy from death, hoped that over time Mtsyri would become unaccustomed to his family, forget about the past and settle into the monastery. The young man really forgot the faces of his loved ones and vaguely remembered his past, got used to monastic life, began to understand the local language and was baptized by the holy father, but this did not turn out well. The hero continued throughout his short life to yearn for what was lost and dream of freedom and perceived his own life in the monastery as being in prison.
The Mtsyri family continues to live somewhere in the Caucasus mountains, and the parents probably consider the hero dead, knowing nothing about Mtsyri’s current situation. Having become an adult young man, the hero promises himself that he will certainly see his family. One day the hero has the opportunity to escape from the monastery. The hero escapes at night during a thunderstorm, but spends only three days in freedom. During this time, the hero manages to meet the leopard, engage in battle with him and defeat this formidable predator.
During this short foray into freedom, Mtsyri also meets a beautiful young Georgian woman, whom he watches from afar. A girl goes down to a mountain river to fill a jug with water. The Georgian woman is wearing poor clothes and a veil, but the girl’s voice seems “sweetly free” to Mtsyri. The hero sees the house where the girl lives - the haklya, which is “grown to the rock,” and the blue smoke that flows over the flat roof. The hero, dying due to illness, considers these memories the most valuable in life.
The hero, however, does not reach his homeland. Mtsyri goes to the mountains, but loses his way in the forest, gets lost and again goes to the monastery from which he escaped. In the forest, the hero falls ill, and later, lying unconscious, the monks find him and take him back to the monastery. The guy believes that he will soon die due to illness, and is sad that he will be buried in a foreign land and will never be able to see his relatives.
Dying, Mtsyri reproaches the old monk for living a rich life in the world and leaving for the monastery only later. In addition, the old man is already weak and gray-haired, unaccustomed to desires, so he cannot understand young Mtsyri, who ended up in the monastery against his own will as a child and has not seen life.
The pity that the monks feel for Mtsyri seems shameful to the young man. At the same time, the hero treats the old monk who came out and looked after him with due respect and calls him “father.” The old man himself also treats Mtsyri in a friendly manner and accepts confession from the young man when he lies dying.
Illustration for Lermontov's work "Mtsyri" Most of all, the hero strives to regain his lost freedom and dreams of returning to where he lived in childhood. Mtsyri asks to be moved before his death to the garden, from where the young man will be able to see the Caucasus. The further biography of the hero is unknown - Mtsyri could have died, or he could have recovered from his illness.
Mtsyri did not cause harm to people, he is a gentle person with a pure childish soul, however, the hero’s life values are incompatible with living in a monastery. Mtsyri's thoughts are directed to his native land, which the hero left against his own will. The hero perceives being among the monks as captivity and believes that this is not life. The hero yearns for his homeland and is burdened by the loneliness in which he is in the monastery, despite the presence of monks around him.
Mtsyri is not suitable for a measured monastic life. The young man is full of “desire and longing” and “powerless and empty heat.” Life in lockdown has made the once cheerful and playful hero gloomy. Mtsyri is unaccustomed to people and feels like a stranger among them; it seems to the hero that he himself is more akin to the beast. The young man recalls a “wonderful world of anxiety and battles,” where “people are as free as eagles.” The hero has not seen his family for many years and misses them, feeling deprived of his homeland and loved ones.
The hero is a freedom-loving person, and in order to gain freedom he is ready to risk his life. However, I don’t want to die at all. Mtsyri regrets that he lived so little and could not fulfill his own deepest desire - to see his homeland and family again.
Despite the fact that the hero was raised by monks, he became a brave man who is ready to fight a wild predator one-on-one without fear and win this fight. Mtsyri turned out to be a glorious warrior; with a sure and quick blow, he cut the “broad forehead” of the leopard, using a simple branch as a weapon. The hero had every chance of becoming a daring highlander if evil fate had not thrown Mtsyri into a monastery.
Lermontov demonstrates the hero’s state of mind through nature. The young man is compared to a lonely leaf that was torn off and carried away by a storm. The hero himself constantly admires the nature of the Caucasus, the bizarre mountain ranges, the snow that burns “like a diamond,” and the height of the sky. The mountain nature in the poem is in opposition to the monastery - the place of imprisonment of the protagonist. Nature is associated with freedom.
In addition, the mountain landscape surrounding the monastery is perceived differently by the monks and Mtsyri himself. For the hero, the rocks hiding in the clouds are the embodiment of freedom, the home of free people, and Mtsyri perceives the monastery cells as “stuffy”. For monks, on the contrary, nature is full of dangers. This opposition intensifies the conflict between Mtsyri and the monastery.
Quotes
"Old man! I've heard many times
That you saved me from death -
Why?.. Gloomy and lonely,
A leaf torn off by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
A child at heart, a monk by destiny.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words "father" and "mother".
“I lived little, and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one,
But only full of anxiety,
I would trade it if I could"
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